


Advantage

by carriecmoney



Series: Scarf Dance: HQ!ATLA AU [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Dirty Talk, Finger Sucking, Humiliation, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 20:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carriecmoney/pseuds/carriecmoney
Summary: Daichi may be getting in over his head when he decides to leave the farm he's known his whole life to join the Oikawa trade envoy to the Northern Water Tribe. Sure, there's the war, wildfires, and math to deal with, but he also learns something more life-changing: he's hot. Sexy asides to "Caravan".





	1. 26: Inuoka

**Author's Note:**

> {A/N: hahaha. haaaah. So I decided that my avatar au needed yet another aside/spinoff fic. This one is for me to dump any fade-to-black sexy scenes from the main fic, Caravan, as I feel compelled to write them. This first one is for the recently published chapter, Inuoka, but I have a feeling I might be going back to highlight some other ones now that I have this place ~~coughmatsudaicough~~. It's a little bit really dirty and self-exposing, so YMMV on it and I won't judge you either way. It's not necessary for complete enjoyment of the main fic (unlike Minivan which you should be reading by now if you're not already), but it's also pretty hot so deserved to be up here in some fashion. I have many, many regrets that have led me to this point. [tumblr](http://carriecmoney.tumblr.com) [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/carriecmoney)}

It took some dancing for Kuroo and Daichi to transition from lightning in the mess to being able to act on it. Daichi had to dawdle while Kuroo made his final round of the anchored ship, giving a fumbling excuse to a cackling Ryuu, handing Snowflake off to a clingy Sou, waiting on the guest barracks to quiet down before he snuck out. He had to navigate the underlit ship by feel, stumbling on grates and jumping at every noise. He was hot and riled up when he pounded on the door with the side of his fist instead of his fragile knuckles.

Kuroo opened the door, tunic off but otherwise unchanged. He smirked and stepped back from the door so Daichi could come in, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “I was worried you changed your mind again.” Daichi wrinkled his nose at him as he stepped over the threshold. Kuroo’s eyes crinkled, and he turned his back on Daichi to lead him to the bed. “Close the door,” he ordered over his shoulder, and it was innocent and vacant - he probably didn’t even see it as an order - but his same old no-questions tone sparked Daichi’s directionless twitching into pointed aggravation. _Enough_.

He threw the sliding door closed hard enough to echo down the wall, teeth grit. Kuroo jumped and spun in his socks, hands up for a fight. Daichi spun the door lock closed with a blind slap, glaring at Kuroo from across the carpet. Kuroo bared his teeth in an uneasy grin, hands falling to waist height. “You about scared the life outta me-”

“Shut up.” Kuroo jerked back. Daichi stomped the four steps into his personal space to grab him by the shirt, yanking him down to his level to growl in his face, “Stop telling me what to do.”

Kuroo exhaled – lowered his taunting smirk, hands resting on Daichi’s waist. “Or what? _Boss?_ ”

Daichi snarled – he didn’t know he could _do_ that – and tossed Kuroo down on the bed behind him, crawling over him and pinning his wrists under his knees. Kuroo hissed, writhing a little. Daichi shifted forward so his kneecaps weren’t digging into the give of Kuroo’s forearms, leaning over him to wrap his ponytail around his hand and hold Kuroo’s head steady. Kuroo forced out a breathy chuckle. “Gonna slap me around?”

“If it’ll work.” He gave a tug – the bed shifted under him. “I think you might like that too much, though.” Kuroo’s eyelids fluttered, head rolling into the pull. “You piss me off, you know that?” He sat back, hips bumping with a whine from Kuroo. “I don’t _like_ being pissed off.”

“Could’ve fooled- me,” Kuroo gasped out, hands curling on nothing. “Seems to me you like it just fine.” He propped his foot up on the edge of the bed behind Daichi, using the leverage of his thigh to push Daichi closer. “I thought you promised to shut me up?”

Daichi’s lip curled. “You’re a special kind of worst.” Instead of the mouth Kuroo was seeking, Daichi stuck his thumb between Kuroo’s parted lips, gripping his chin and prying it open. “I have no idea how you still have this,” he said, adjusting his hold to pin Kuroo’s tongue down. Kuroo’s breath was steam on his wrist, eyes heavy as they bore black holes into Daichi. “I thought maybe you had some stupid ulterior motive for making everyone hate you, like creating a common enemy or something.” He pulled Kuroo’s ponytail and jaw apart so he stretched as wide as his mouth would go so he could see every tooth. “But now I think you just get off on it.” Kuroo bit down on his thumb - not hard, but enough for Daichi to relax his hold, take his hand out of Kuroo’s mouth and wipe the spit on Kuroo’s undershirt.

Kuroo cleared his throat, mouth twitching. “Don’t hold back. Tell me how you _really_ feel.”

“Okay.” He pushed Kuroo’s entire face back this time, thumb in the cavity behind his jaw, holding it up so he could watch Kuroo’s throat swallow. “You’re arrogant, aggravating, and annoying. I never know what you’re gonna do, or say, or what word will close a door in my face, and it _pisses_ me _off_.” His hand trailed down Kuroo’s neck to his chest, tugging at the open neck of his undershirt so one strap hung off a shoulder. “I don’t _want_ to want to do this to you-” He pulled Kuroo’s hair, making him hiss through his teeth– “but you open your mouth and _ask_ for it.” He sat back, off of Kuroo’s wrists and onto his hips, that strip of wood pressed harder to the inside of his thigh. Kuroo flexed his wrists, feeling out his fingers, not taking his eyes off Daichi, who swallowed. “And get a damn haircut.”

Kuroo smirked. “Oh yeah?” He sat up, holding Daichi’s spread legs just above the knees, yanking him closer until they were pressed from hip to heart, breathing his air, noses brushing. “Takes one to know one.” He heaved Daichi to the side so he bounced against the pillows, crawling over him to leer down, pinning Daichi’s arms above his head, fingers brushing cool metal. “Now you’re my captive,” he crooned. “What’re you gonna do about tha-”

Daichi surged up and chomped on his lower lip, tugging him down by his teeth. Kuroo gasped and opened his mouth, pressing Daichi into the pillows with the force of his attack. Daichi had missed this, his sheer gusto when they kissed, too much teeth and tongue and _everything_ , but satisfying. He let Daichi’s wrists go to hold his face, and that was his first mistake.

Daichi rucked up the useless undershirt as Kuroo tugged the knot of his belt open and tossed it aside, not breaking the liplock as he shoved Daichi’s tunic off his body, bunching it up under him instead and that _wouldn’t_ do. He rolled them again, pulling off Kuroo’s hairband, slipping it on his wrist so he could shake the wild mane out and lose his hands in it. Kuroo purred, rolling his tongue into the indent where Daichi’s missing tooth used to be. Daichi shuddered – yanked away, both of them gasping. Daichi took the breather to tug his shirt off by the neck, throwing it to the side as Kuroo’s hands explored from his knees to his waistband, trailing long fingers inside the edge, dragging his nails through the hair around Daichi’s navel. Daichi came back down to mouth at Kuroo’s neck, which wrung the same noises out of him but wasn’t as effective at shutting him up.

Kuroo hummed, almost a moan, hands roaming over Daichi’s bare back. “You can bite me if you want,” he breathed. “I don’t mind.” Daichi’s nose wrinkled, tendon between his teeth. But he didn’t bite down, instead mouthing up to Kuroo’s ear, running his hand through his hair to pull it aside so he could trace cartilage. Kuroo gasped, twitching under him. “Oh, yeah-”

Daichi shoved his fingers in Kuroo’s mouth, still gnawing on his ear. “What did I tell you about _shutting up?_ ” he hissed into it. He was straddling one of Kuroo’s legs now, the other leg beating a tattoo into Daichi’s spine as their lower bodies found a rhythm once more. Kuroo licked around his fingers, holding them steady by Daichi’s wrist. “You like having shit in your mouth?” Kuroo’s stomach gave under his with the force of his exhale. “I could tie your tongue down with this fucking awful shirt of yours, maybe that’ll keep your voice from speaking.” Kuroo’s head tipped back, nails digging into Daichi’s arm. “You’re disgusting, aren’t you? Could you get off with just me telling you how shitty you are?” Daichi pulled back from Kuroo’s ear to watch him grin around Daichi’s fingers, spitting hair out of his mouth.

Kuroo drew Daichi’s fingers out so he could kiss his palm, mouth wet. “Promise?” he whispered, licking along a lifeline.

“Fuck.” Daichi crammed his hand down on Kuroo’s smirk. “Can I do _any_ thing to make you stop?” His smirk curled higher against Daichi’s skin. Daichi grabbed a handful of his hair to yank him up so he could slam his shoulders against the wall behind the bed, pillows only in the way as he manhandled Kuroo into something he could work with, something he liked. And Kuroo let him.

Kuroo locked his ankles behind Daichi’s back as he rose to his knees, pinning Kuroo’s weight between flesh and steel as he mouthed at the other side of his neck, licking up sweat. “Oh, fuck me,” Kuroo breathed, “just like that.” Daichi’s fingers dug into his hold on Kuroo’s thighs, mouth stilling. Kuroo chuckled. “Thought you didn’t want me telling you what to do?”

Daichi ran his nose up the dip under his ear into his hair, burying his face in it. It was coarser than expected, thick, heavy on him. “As a rule, no.” He hitched Kuroo up a little more so it would be _just_ right without cloth, chin on his shoulder. “But it’s - new mechanics.”

Kuroo breathed a laugh, hooking a finger in Daichi’s hairband to pop it off, hair springing out. “Shit, puppy, you’re really something else.” He spread his fingers in it and turned Daichi’s head to point at the washstand against the wall. “There’s some lotion in there that will do us nicely.” He pressed their foreheads together, humor almost all suppressed. “So you haven’t done this before?”

Daichi swallowed. “Not in- this order, I guess.” He grinned as he lowered Kuroo back to the bed, untangling his legs so he could break away. “But I had a good teacher.”

“ _Aw_.” Kuroo fluttered his eyelashes as Daichi rolled to his feet to dig in the cabinet below the washbasin, looking for something like lotion. “I’m flattered you think so.”

Daichi grinned over his shoulder. “Not you. Issei.” He twisted the lid off a carved stone tub – smelled different than he expected, but felt right. He brought it back, tossing it on the sheets next to a confused Kuroo, using his pause for thought to shuck his pants and underwear.

“Issei… wait, _Matsukawa?_ ” Daichi bit his tongue and crawled back on the bed, sliding between Kuro’s sprawled legs to pull at the laces of his pants. “Shit, no wonder he hates me. I stole his man.”

Daichi shrugged, focusing on his task and not the warm hand tracing circles down his chest. “Ship sailed on that one a while ago.” He winked. “But he’s a damn good kisser.”

Kuroo growled. “I’ll show _you_ a damn good kisser.” He grabbed Daichi’s face and tried to eat it. Daichi liked being food apparently, though, because he opened to his teeth, tongues all over as Kuroo squirmed back into Daichi’s lap, making Daichi crane up to keep the kiss going. Daichi wormed a hand down the back of Kuroo’s pants to grab his ass – or what there was of it. Kuroo moved with him to get them down his hips, kneeling together as they got them off. They had to break the kiss for Kuroo to make an undignified but necessary side roll to shake them off. Daichi chuckled and offered his hand when they were gone, pulling him back to his right spot, only their socks and Kuroo’s awful, awful undershirt still on.

They had been naked together before, but it was different last time, a stranger in a bar, beer breath and laughter and darkness. The room was lit this time, somber and sober, and it wasn’t an unknown ponytail anymore. It was eyes he knew but still didn’t understand, watching as he unscrewed the lid and rolled his fingers in the yellow-green slick, long arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted a little so Daichi could reach better. “Didn’t you promise to tie me up a minute ago?” he asked Daichi’s temple, circling around with Daichi’s search. Daichi snorted.

“Do you want me to fuck you or chain you?” He slipped a finger in, and Kuroo caved over him. “I can’t really do both at once.”

“I’m sure you could find a way.” He rocked back and forth, forcing Daichi to his tempo, hands scrabbling. “Oh, yeah, there,” he breathed. Daichi rolled his eyes.

“Gag yourself if you want it so bad,” he said, reaching back with his free hand to direct Kuroo’s long fingers into his open mouth, shoving them in by the wrist. Kuroo took them with a grunt, arm cinching tighter around Daichi’s neck. “That’s better,” Daichi mumbled into the dip of his collarbone, working a second finger inside. “So you _can_ listen to others when you want.” His hand fell back down to hold Kuroo’s leg and spread his stance wider, working both fingers in deep. His hand was cramping from the angle, but it was a nagging backdrop to sweaty skin slipping over his, hair of both types sticking to his face, gasps and disgusting slurps in his ear. He dug his top teeth into Kuroo’s shoulder, making him whine.

“Does everyone else know how awful you are?” Daichi mused into his bitemark, scissoring his fingers around until Kuroo threatened to squirm right out of his hold. “Of course they all know you’re a normal kind of shit, too, but do they know you like drooling down my back?” Kuroo rutted against him, smearing their scent between them. “I can’t wait to tell them.”

“You wou’n’t,” he said around his ineffective finger gag. Daichi sighed and extracted his fingers from Kuroo’s ass, wiping them on his shirt.

“What did I _say_ about the talking?” He loosened Kuroo’s python hold, fingers popping out of his mouth with a twisting squelch as he rested Kuroo against the wall. He used Kuroo’s shirt to wipe his sloppy mouth clean, waiting until Kuroo blinked the haze away and focused on him to ask, “You okay?” Kuroo nodded, brushing the hair out of Daichi’s face with a damp hand, tilting his chin up with his smirk as he scratched Daichi’s scalp. Daichi leant into it, smiling, hands roaming over Kuroo until they caught on the dips behind his knees. “You ready?”

Kuroo breathed a laugh as his hand dropped, knocking his head back on the wall with clenched-shut eyes. “Sweetheart, you could have rawed me five minutes ago and I would’ve been ready.” Daichi scowled, swinging one of Kuroo’s legs up to hook over his shoulder. Kuroo grit his teeth. “ _Fuck_ yes.”

“You’re a twisted human being. Is this how they breed y’all in the Fire Nation?” He pawed for the lotion tub, slathering it on before he lined himself up, and this was a _strange_ thing to watch his body do.

“I don’t know about us but they sure make y’all-” He choked. “Oh, they make y’all _right_.”

“Ugh, shut the fuck _up_.” He slammed his mouth on Kuroo’s as he rammed up into him, nose in his cheek as he tried to reach Kuroo’s last molar. Kuroo bleated all sorts of embarrassing sounds into his mouth, limp and receiving as Daichi’s thrusts shoved him higher up the wall, searching for the leverage to make him scream. Kuroo egged him on, nails sharp down his arms and back, heels thumping with every swing. Daichi could see himself getting addicted to this, the rush, the flush, the heady control as he folded Kuroo in half and drove in deeper. Their kiss was just shared air now, Kuroo whining and wincing against whatever part of Daichi’s face was in reach, searching for a hold on the smooth metal wall. He snagged the fringe of the tacky red silk tapestry over the bed, pulling himself up by it to match Daichi’s tempo with more force -

Of course it fell down. It tore out of the hooks it hung from after just two yanks, fluttering down around their heads. Daichi slowed (he couldn’t stop), blinking in the sudden darkness. Kuroo lifted it so they could see each other, light even more red-tinged than normal. They breathed. Laughed. Threw the damn thing aside together, Daichi grabbing Kuroo and rolling the operation to the bed proper, thumping him down with a fluff of blankets, still connected. He smacked a kiss on Kuroo’s cheek, still laughing as he let Kuroo’s bent-up leg fall aside so it could lock around his waist with the other. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, spreading Kuroo’s hair out on the stiff bedspread. “Really, how are you still alive?”

Kuroo grinned. “Mama always said I had nine lives.” He nudged Daichi’s face with his nose until he turned to meet his kiss, a little less forceful than before, slack and lazy. Daichi started to move again, sliding his hands under Kuroo’s ribcage and up to his shoulders to grip and apply extra force on the beat. Kuroo’s breath gusted like he was punched (he kind of was), ankles unlocking so he could brace his feet on the wall and push back.

It didn’t take long for Daichi after that. Kuroo clenched down on him and bit his tongue, and he came with a grunt, chasing the white high as Kuroo held him in, still rutting when Daichi’s senses filtered back to him. He pushed up to his hands, sat back, slipped out. Kuroo’s legs stayed spread out across his, a long-limbed vision of sweat, spit, and bad hair. Daichi hummed, raking his nails up and down Kuroo’s thighs as they held eye contact, panting. “You gonna help me out or not?” Kuroo gasped. He ran his hand down his own chest, still-there undershirt bunched up under his arms, thumbs pausing in the dip of his navel - but Daichi slapped his hand away before he could touch himself.

“Stop.” Kuroo froze. “I’m still trying to decide if you deserve it.” Kuroo’s breath hitched. Daichi traced Kuroo’s lips with his thumb. “You’ve been awful mouthy tonight. Actually, since I met you.” Kuroo’s tongue darted out to flick Daichi’s thumb, eyes glazed over. His hips still circled a little in Daichi’s lap, so Daichi shoved two fingers back in. The come squished between them was an even stranger sensation than the herbal lotion. Kuroo’s face twitched. “I should just leave you like this, maybe tie you down like you wanted until mor-”

Kuroo arched up, head thrown back as he came, white splattering across his chest. Daichi blinked a few times, frozen with one hand up Kuroo’s ass and the other loose on his collar as his chest heaved. “ _Really?_ ” Kuroo didn’t respond, still floating. Daichi sighed, pulling his fingers out and wiping them on Kuroo’s abused shirt. “You really are gross,” he said, shaking his head as he lifted Kuroo’s legs off him so he could go back to the washstand on wobbly legs, putting the lotion tub back in its spot and wetting the waiting cloth with the tepid water in the basin. He scrubbed his face and crotch down before resoaking it and turning back to the bed.

Kuroo was still lying where he left him, upside-down on the bed with his feet on a pillow stack, but he was watching Daichi with lidded eyes and parted lips. He flung a hand out, dead weight in his direction. “Gonna have to buy that Matsukawa a drink,” he breathed. “ _Shit_ , Dai.”

Daichi rolled his eyes, ears burning. “Shut your trap. I’m still mad at you.”

Kuroo shrugged, limbs floppy. Daichi was doing a good job of ignoring his jelly knees himself. “S’okay. Just come on back here and be mad where I can reach.” Daichi shook his smile away but gave in, sliding across brocaded silk. Kuroo was much more of a mess than him, arching and purring as Daichi cleaned up everything above his knees. He threw the cloth away and shoved the scattered clothes and the damn hanging off the bed, then prodded Kuroo under the covers. Kuroo followed his direction with a lazy roll. “You gonna make me breakfast in the morning, too?” he asked, eyes still closed as he wriggled for a good spot on his wall of too many pillows. Daichi huffed, but the slow curl of Kuroo’s smile made him swallow the smart comeback. He just slid in next to him. Kuroo held him close, already half-asleep.

Daichi frowned at the still-lit lanterns along the walls. “Gonna turn off the lights?” Kuroo stuck a hand up in the air and twirled it, flames sucking away so the only light was the moon on the water out the porthole. “Showoff,” Daichi grumbled.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the sauce.” Kuroo yawned. “We’ll argue ‘bout what you wanna argue ‘bout ’morrow.” Daichi didn’t hold back his smile at that, even when Kuroo cracked an eye and caught him. He brushed some hair back from Kuroo’s face, fingers running all the way to the end on the pillow behind him before coming back to the roots to get more. Kuroo sighed and closed his eyes, letting Daichi pet him until they both fell asleep.


	2. 10: Terushima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {A/N: I know, the chapter title is misleading, but it's not my fault that's the Caravan chapter where this happened. I've been sitting on half of this for a long time, but I finally got around to finishing it when I needed just a little break from my nanowrimo... chances of the iwaoidai one coming up soon: High [tumblr](http://carriecmoney.tumblr.com) [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/carriecmoney)}

Issei dropped down into the boulder-hole Daichi had found on the hill by the game trail, hands in his pockets as he glanced around. “Cool place you got.” Daichi scowled at his profile, and Issei winked. Daichi rolled his eyes.

“Oh, just get over here before I change my mind.” Issei smirked and moved in, crowding Daichi back against a downhill boulder, hovering just out of touch. He licked his lips, and Daichi swallowed on a dry throat. “Well?”

“Desperation is a good look on you.” Issei ducked in to run the bridge of his nose up Daichi’s neck to the hollow behind his ear, chapped lips trailing behind. “You should beg more,” he breathed.

Daichi inhaled, hard, fingers twitching, heartbeat in his palms. “Maybe you should make me.” Issei smirked against his temple, drew his ear through his teeth, hands resting on Daichi’s hips.

“I’m always up for a challenge.” He dug his fingers in. Daichi’s hands were already buried in his hair, his evening ponytail popping free. Daichi’s eyes fluttered as Issei’s tongue traced the shell of his ear, bent down over him so there was empty space between their chests so he could reach. Daichi let out a strangled little noise and stomped his foot, raising his platform a few inches and lowering Issei’s so they were on even eye level. Issei chuckled against his jaw. “How long have you wanted to do that?” he asked.

“Shut up,” Daichi growled, grabbing his head and forcing it aside so he could mouth at Issei’s neck, sloppy and sharp. Issei hissed and let him, pressing hard on Daichi’s front, pinning him against the boulder. It was an exploration, seeing what part of Issei’s skin got a reaction, what it was, how to drum the pace up with a flick of his tongue over a tendon, to make Issei’s fingers leave bruises and bare his teeth on a snarl. Daichi used one hand to yank the tuck of Issei’s tunic open, widening the available neck space to mark up, hand sliding inside the gap to hold warm skin, puckered scars against his palm. Issei’s hands tugged on his pants, inching them down with the help of the rock they were rutting against, laces straining. Issei hissed when Daichi’s teeth dug in a little too hard. Daichi pulled back with a gasp, both of them panting in each other’s face. “Sorry,” he breathed. Issei hummed.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” He slithered to his knees, pulling at Daichi’s laces just enough to expose his crotch to the mountain air. Daichi knocked his head back, hands still in Issei’s hair as he took Daichi in hand, mouthed over it. He chuckled at Daichi’s punch-drunk gasp, vibrating through Daichi’s abdomen. “Someone’s eager tonight,” he murmured, kissing along Daichi’s hipbone.

“It’s – your fault,” Daichi gasped, bucking into it. “I was never – like this before.” He ground his teeth as Issei ran his hands down his legs, pulling his pants down with them until they bunched at his calves.

“That’s hot.” His hands slid back up, almost leaving indents in their wake with their pressure. “I like being personally responsible for corruption,” he purred.

Daichi groaned. “Stop talking and get on-” He trailed off into a long moan. Issei chuckled around his dick, rolling the heels of his hands into Daichi’s thighs with his rhythm. Daichi arched with it, caught up in Issei’s lead as he dug his fingers into the boulder behind him, hissing through his teeth. He leant back in his rock hold so he could sling one leg over Issei’s shoulder and draw him closer with a heel on his back, a move that made Issei cough and pull off instead. “Sorry,” Daichi panted.

“No,” Issei said through a clogged throat. “No, it’s okay. Not a bad step.” He held the knee on his shoulder there, nuzzling into it. Daichi had stepped out of his pants leg with the movement, fabric pooling around one ankle now. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s dreamed about getting crushed between your thighs.”

If Daichi’s body had the blood for it he would have flushed. As it was, he opened his eyes and looked down from the stars, chest heaving as Issei kissed down – up – from knee to hip. “I never thought someone could be – obsessed with my legs,” he gasped. Issei cut his long eyes up at him, shining in the starlight, mouth wet with – _oh_.

“Obviously you’ve never looked at them.” His hand flexed around Daichi’s leg, fingers digging a pattern. His other hand was digging in his pants, Daichi’s body in the way of seeing exactly what he was doing. “They’re clearly your best feature,” he said before taking Daichi in his mouth again, hot wet warmth at odds with the cool dry air and making the rock crack under Daichi’s scrabbling fingers. Daichi lost the thread of the banter as Issei’s mouth got to work, head spinning, world swimming. Wet fingers trailed in the join of his hip and thigh, down and back.

Issei popped off his dick to ask, “What d’ya say, bossman?” The fingers drew loose circles, the now-familiar smell of Issei’s pocket lubricant wafting up. He sucked in a breath.

“Go for it,” he said with its release. Issei smirked against his hip and pressed in, distracting him by sucking on the sensitive skin where stomach and leg met. They had done this _this_ way twice before now (after the first failed attempt, where Issei had talked at him about consent, disease, and positions until he had fallen asleep in the old burlap of an emptied ration wagon they had chosen as their hiding spot), and while it had been an – adjustment the first time around, Issei’s patient hands had guided him through at his pace, and he could mostly say that he enjoyed it. He cinched the leg over Issei’s shoulder tighter to give him more space, the bracing leg trembling. Issei ran his free hand down it, hot and heavy, as he mouthed along the dips of Daichi’s body. He tugged the open front of his tunic wider with hand and teeth, bunching under his belt so he could ruck up Daichi’s undershirt to mouth up to his navel, two fingers working inside. Daichi’s eyes couldn’t decide to stay open or closed, fluttering in the starlight, only his breathing, the muffled wet noises from Issei’s mouth, and the bugs in his ears as the backdrop. This far from both the camp and the mountain bar, it really did feel like they were the only humans around.

Issei pulled away, both mouth and fingers, and stood, slipping Daichi’s leg down his shoulder to loop around his waist, running the bridge of his nose up the side of Daichi’s. “Doin’ okay there?” he asked, voice rattling through Daichi’s temple.

He swallowed a gasp, still panting as sweat pooled along his spine. “Fine.” He squirmed – he wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to the strange feeling of being stretched with nothing there, or if he ever wanted to. “C’mon,” he breathed.

Issei smirked against his cheek, hands busy with his own pants, the brush of the inside of his forearm against Daichi’s lifted thigh a crackling over his skin. “Now, now,” he crooned, stamping his foot so Daichi’s platform rose an inch or two higher, “aren’t you supposed to say ‘please’?”

Daichi released his lips from their bitten-back state, yelp at the angle change successfully repressed. “Make me,” he gasped.

Issei reached down for the other knee, lifting it with a little _hup_ so they both were around his waist, Daichi’s ankles locking together before he even knew it was off the ground. “Aren’t you supposed to be the polite, innocent farmhand?” he asked, hands sliding up to shove Daichi’s shirt and tunic up more, baring more skin to the mountain air as their bare hips bumped, Issei’s mostly-clothed body scraping against his lightning skin. He gripped Daichi’s waist to angle his hips, long lines pressed against his front to mouth under Daichi’s ear. The burn of his dick bumping up against the join of Daichi’s thighs filtered all of Daichi’s thoughts through white and moonlight. “Say please,” he whispered, tongue flicking over the tendon in Daichi’s neck.

He tilted it back for more surface area. “ _Please_.”

Issei latched on as he worked them into the best position, shoving Daichi around a little and that absolutely did _not_ get to his gut, lining up and pushing in. Daichi bit down on Issei’s shoulder, linen in his teeth, hands scrabbling at his back, one under and one over his tunic, eyes shut tight as Issei moaned in his ear, melting into him as they sank into the boulder like a feather mattress. Issei grabbed his thighs by the handful as Daichi snarled his hands in Issei’s hair, holding him in as Issei’s tongue painted circles along the curve of his neck. He wasn’t moving yet, just buried to the hilt as they breathed, controlling, Issei’s fingers kneading hard enough to hurt but Daichi didn’t tell him to stop. “Please.”

“That’s more like it,” Issei mumbled into his skin, cool hair drifting over his cheek. Daichi wished they had taken off more clothes so he could feel it everywhere, but Issei started moving before he could ask, each jerk forward knocking another thought out of his head and embarrassing little aborted gasps out of his mouth. Issei’s mouth could only reach as far down as Daichi’s shirt collar, but he was determined, switching sides so he could taste more of Daichi’s skin. The freshly-bared side chilled in the wet exposure. Daichi rolled his head back, losing himself in the weightless thrill, the dig of Issei’s wide hands, his mumbled words too quiet for Daichi’s scrambled brain to make out.

Scratchy linen rubbed on his bare parts; he pulled Issei closer with a leg squeeze to make it intentional. Issei breathed a laugh under his jaw. “You’re going to leave evidence like that,” he said, voice rumbling through Daichi’s chest. He kept Daichi up by the pin of his body as he let one leg go to tug at his tunic’s belt, letting it flutter to the ground as the tunic parted, a pale line from neck to join. Daichi shoved at the open neck of it, biting into Issei’s bared neck, hands diving down to feel the bumps of scars on his spine. Issei moaned, readjusting his grip to hitch Daichi a little higher, twitching inside when Daichi scraped his teeth over his collarbone. Daichi grinned, and Issei scratched him with his blunt nails. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He pulled Issei’s skin through his teeth, again. Issei growled and rammed up into him _hard_. Daichi grit his teeth and buried his face in Issei’s neck, gasping as he kept it up, earth curling around him for the best arc. His legs were trembling, shaking where they hung haphazard over Issei’s sharp hips, blood turned to blasting jelly. Issei grunted with each thrust, face in Daichi’s hair. He collected enough presence of mind to pull back and catch Issei’s mouth, sloppy kisses sliding with their momentum. Issei clacked in close, teeth and tongues messy together. His jaw went slack as he shoved forward one last time, a full body press into the granite featherbed as he came in Daichi with a cracking groan. Daichi panted into his open mouth, jelly still bubbling in him. Issei ran his hands up and down Daichi’s thighs, the groan tapering off into a rumbling hum.

“Lovely work, as always,” he purred, trailing kisses over Daichi’s sweaty face. “What do you need from me?”

“Just-” He bucked up, Issei still inside him. Issei gasped, an edge to it, and pulled out, Daichi biting his lip and clenching on air. “Please,” he breathed.

Issei let out a shaky breath against his temple, hands shaking. “Tell me where, bossman.”

Daichi snarled and grabbed Issei’s wrist, slamming the boulder with his other so a ledge jutted out enough so he couldn’t slip down with Issei’s weakening grip. He directed the hand to his dick, hissing as rough fingers curled around it. The new seat allowed Issei to lean against him for more than just keeping him up, exploring his upper body with the bump of his nose following his dry mouth, chapped in the high altitude air as he jerked him off, lazy and light. Daichi’s legs fell apart, one held wide at the knee by Issei’s free hand. It wasn’t bad, but it was not what he _needed_. “Get on with it,” he snapped, higher and reedier than he would have liked. Issei just laughed, thumbing at his head.

“Bossy,” he crooned, mouthing at Daichi’s ear as he _finally_ set a rhythm, a goal in mind. “Maybe next time we should see how you do in the lead,” he said, tugging on Daichi’s earlobe with his teeth. “Let you pin me to a boulder, use your farmer magic to keep me there…” He covered Daichi’s mouth with his as Daichi gasped, kissing him through his climax. Daichi shuddered with it, eyes fluttering. Issei bit his lip, grinning around it as he pulled away until it slipped out from between his teeth. Daichi blinked up at him, color washed in the night, Issei’s dark green eyes a deep night pine. “Would you like that?” Issei asked – again. Daichi swallowed.

“Maybe,” he whispered, floppy hands dangling over Issei’s shoulders. “Worth a shot.”

Issei’s evergreen eyes crinkled. “That’s my thought, too.” He stepped back, reaching up to take Daichi’s wrists and help him back to his feet – only to kneel again, hands not leaving Daichi’s body to glide down to the sensitive sides of his thighs, tender lines where his fingers had been promising to be bruises by dawn. “Just doing some cleaning,” he said, breath ghosting over Daichi’s wet limp dick. Daichi covered his face with his hands as his tongue travelled over Daichi’s stained crotch, shoulder shaking. Issei chuckled. “You waited to get embarrassed until _now?_ ”

“It just – tickles!” Issei finished what his mouth could get and wiped the rest of them off with Daichi’s pants. He slapped it away, snatching his now-gross pants out of his grasp. “I have to _wear_ those!” he tried to snap, tone somewhat undercut by his lingering laughter. Issei winked from his kneel as he tucked himself back in his pants, tying up the laces before stretching sideways for his tossed-aside belt. Daichi pulled his clothes straight as well, hopping into his ruined pants and grimacing at the wet spot around his left knee. “Disgusting.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He rolled to his feet, hopping right into Daichi’s personal space with a smirk. Daichi raised his eyebrows at him, then reached up to run a hand through Issei’s hair. Issei pushed into it, eyes closing on a smile. “Guess we should get back,” he mumbled.

“Guess we should.” Daichi caught the washed-out circle of Issei’s hairtie on the ground and knelt for it, handing it over as Issei stared at their boulder with a tilted head and crossed arms. He took it without looking, throwing his hair up as he hummed at the distinctive human-shaped curve of the boulder. “We could put it back to normal,” he offered. Daichi propped his fists on his hips, tongue in his teeth. He grinned.

“Nah.” Issei cackled and took a few steps to vault over it back to the game trail. Daichi bit his lip, chewing as he stared at the imprint of his back, the real thing still sweaty and sticking to his shirt. He shook his head and climbed over it to follow Issei back to camp.


	3. 35: Oikawa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {A/N: haha fuck  
> proofing things is for nerds [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/carriecmoney) [tumblr](http://carriecmoney.tumblr.com)}

“Stop looking at me like that,” Hajime growled, crossing his arms over his tight chest and hunching his shoulders up to his red ears. “It’s gross.”

Tooru sighed against Daichi’s neck, smacking another kiss there. “Really, what are we going to do with him.”

Daichi’s eyelids fluttered as Tooru kept exploring his neck with his mouth, up to and behind his ear. “Oh, I can think of a few things.”

“I can’t wait to hear about them.” Arms squeezed around Daichi’s waist. “But since all the furniture in this room is old and fragile, maybe you can present them in bed?” Daichi shivered, and Tooru unwound himself, catching Daichi’s hand to guide him to the bedroom door, grinning. Daichi snagged Hajime as they passed, a string for a second before the door closed behind them. Daichi broke from Tooru to grab Hajime by the waist and shove him against the door, noses bumping before Daichi kissed him hard, fingers digging into Hajime’s sides as he held him close and slotted their mouths together. Hajime was too busy snarling up his hair to fight it, one leg hooking behind Daichi’s knee as the sunshine that had been simmering so long boiled over, thick lines and rough hands too frantic for stasis. With Kuroo, Daichi had felt like food, but Hajime kissed him like it was a contest, like he had a point to prove. Daichi was happy to compete.

“Ahem.” Daichi pressed Hajime into the door harder, hips slotting together, chests aligning – it was a _delight_ to finally kiss someone his height. “A- _hem!_ ”

It was Hajime who pulled away first, holding Daichi by hanks of his hair, breath hot on his chin. “If we don’t answer him – it’ll just get worse,” he panted.

“I’m right _here_ , y’know.” A hand slid down Daichi’s back, stopped at his tunic’s belt around his waist. Daichi kept mouthing at Hajime’s jaw, sharp pangs of hairs being torn out nothing against the heat rushing through him. Long fingers slid his hairtie off of what was left of his ponytail as Hajime’s will crumpled, gasping as Daichi dove in to bite his neck, sliding his tongue up and down the tendon. The fingers slid around to tap a spot on Hajime’s neck a few inches past Daichi’s mouth, more back than side. “He likes it here.”

Hajime shivered, but instead of the expected bite back, he just tilted his head to allow Daichi better access. Daichi followed the fingers’ direction, mouth sliding over them as he went. The hand at his waist tugged at his belt. “Come, now,” Tooru sang, “don’t you want to get off that door and enjoy this somewhere more comfortable?”

“Kinda like the door,” Daichi growled into Hajime’s neck, sucking at the indicated spot so Hajime writhed under him. He pressed him harder into the door, feeling every bump of his body against him, ribs and hips and the strip against his thigh. Tooru sighed.

“Honestly, I’m taking two animals to bed now.” A hum was Daichi’s only warning before Tooru slid his arm around and picked him up by the waist, hauling him out of Hajime’s arms with no apology, swinging him up to catch his legs in a bridal carry. Daichi blinked at the change in light and angle, arms automatically around Tooru’s neck as he walked them the few steps to the bed and laid him out, gentle, slow. He smiled down at Daichi, light brown waves framing his face. “That’s better, hmm?”

Daichi struggled for breath, mouth and jaw wet. Hajime crawled up next to him, wrapping over his side to kiss at his jaw, his ear. Tooru sat back on the bed, adjusting Daichi’s legs so he was between them, taking off one boot, then the other. “Proper riding boots,” Tooru muttered, considering Daichi’s soft Water Tribe leather soles. “First thing you’ll need.”

Daichi licked dry lips as Hajime brushed his hair back to continue his journey up his temple. “You gonna judge all my clothes as you undress me, dear?” He grinned. “We’ll be here all night.”

“And is that such a bad thing?” He crossed Daichi’s ankles behind him, hand sliding up his bare calves and under his pants to his knees. “You’re _my_ captain now,” he hissed, eyes bright. “What you look like affects what people think of me.” He smirked, leaning in to whisper, “I want them to be _sinfully_ jealous of me.”

Daichi gasped as teeth sank into cartilage. “I’m not your damn poodle-monkey.”

“Oh, no, I would _never_ think such a thing. You’re something more… solid.” He gripped under Daichi’s knees to force them towards his chest, leaning in as he purred, “A dog-bear, perhaps. Or my very own tiger-lynx.” He nosed over the side of Daichi that Hajime hadn’t claimed, breath hot. “You’ll wear my colors from now on, or you’ll wear nothing at all,” he murmured, hips almost flush, mouth a specter.

Daichi growled and grabbed some hair, heels dragging Tooru in hard with a hitch and a gasp. He dislodged Hajime as he rolled them away, Daichi straddling Tooru’s chest on the landing and holding him by the throat. Tooru gasped, eyes wide under him – he jerked his hands away, sitting back. “Sorry- sorry, I didn’t mean – it was a reflex-”

Hajime chuckled and crawled over to his side, hands sliding around his waist. “It was a reflex to try and strangle Tooru? I mean, I know, we’ve all been there-”

“Iwa- _chan!_ ” But Hajime just chuckled more, tugging at the knot of Daichi’s belt until it fell open. Tooru had recovered from his shock, hands on Daichi’s thighs again as he rubbed them up and down, pants and gloves still between their skins. He grinned up at Daichi, head cocked. “So,” he drawled, “just what did you and that flaming trash heap of a captain get _in_ to on that ship?”

Daichi couldn’t help the stab that sliced through his ribs at the concept of Kuroo. Tooru’s eyes softened, so Daichi blurted out before the pity, “He _really_ liked it rough.” Tooru blinked at him, and Daichi’s stupid mouth kept going, “Weird fucker liked me to hit him around and call him shit like ‘weird fucker’-” He sucked in a breath, blinking away starshine. Hajime shushed him, leaning into his side, cheeks pressed together. He pressed into it, exhaling, inhaling. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“There, there.” Tooru patted his leg. “I’ll get you back to him, no matter how much trash he stuffs on that ship in the meantime.” Daichi scrambled blind for Tooru’s wrist, squeezing it hard enough for bones to crack. Hajime blotted at his brimming eyes with the belt still in his hand. “Are you too sentimental for this tonight, dear?”

Daichi opened his eyes to meet Tooru’s patient ones. His hands were still just above Daichi’s knees, warm and steady, Hajime a solid presence around him. He smiled. “What, and waste even more time?” Hajime laughed against his temple and drew his tunic off, sliding it off him an arm at a time. Tooru squeezed his thighs.

“That’s my captain.” He shook his hair out from under his neck, splaying it out on the pillow in a perfect halo that Daichi wanted to believe was practiced but he knew was not. “I don’t believe either of us like to be belittled quite like your trash man,” he said, watching Hajime’s hands strip Daichi’s top half bare, “but I don’t think _I’d_ mind watching you try to manhandle us a bit.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Hajime muttered into Daichi’s bare shoulder, tracing the raised scar of his tattoo with his fingertips as his mouth wandered up to Daichi’s neck. Daichi shook his hair out of Hajime’s way, sliding a smile at him.

“What, you think I couldn’t do it?” He worked his arm around Hajime’s waist and clutched him close for a kiss, wide open and heavy. Hajime actually _keened_ , scrabbling for a hold on him, callouses slipping over bare skin and fingers lacing through Tooru’s on his knee. Daichi pulled away (a moment later than planned), watching Hajime’s eyes bat close enough to feel eyelashes on his cheek. “You really think so?”

“You _are_ outnumbered, dear heart,” Tooru purred. Daichi glanced down as he walked his unclaimed hand up Daichi’s leg to his laces, twisting their ends around his fingers. “But if anyone could, it’s you.” His tongue poked out through his teeth as he watched his fingers play with the leather cords. “Dunno ‘bout you, thought,” he breathed, “but we’ve had quite a while to piece this little scene together.”

It took a moment for the implication to filter into Daichi’s mind past Hajime’s continuing lazy exploration of his face with his mouth. He shivered under the hands roaming his body. “You have, huh?” Tooru smiled, eyes lidded as he licked his lips, eyes roving over Daichi as he pulled his laces out, hole by hole. “You gonna tell me about it?”

“I prefer showing over telling.” His wandering eyes flicked up to Hajime, who huffed over Daichi’s bare shoulder. He reached back to unwrap Daichi’s arm from around his waist as Tooru finally finished toying with Daichi’s laces and yanked them all the way off his pants, spreading his hands under the openings, curling around Daichi’s bare hips. “I love you ruffians that don’t know about underwear,” he purred, using his grip to wriggle Daichi into a better spot in his lap, one that cut the slice of his hipbones into Daichi’s thighs and rucked up their loosened pants against each other. Hajime, behind him now, reached down to the open flap in the front, mouth just resting on Daichi’s jaw as he gripped him. Daichi hissed, head knocking back onto Hajime’s shoulder hard enough to make it ring. Tooru’s hands kneaded their way back, only the spread of Daichi’s legs keeping his last scrap of cloth on his body.

Hajime pressed up close behind him, sweaty bare front to sweaty bare back, and mouthed over Daichi’s cheek on his shoulder, tracing a particular line with his tongue. Daichi moaned and turned his face for it, the slighter tough spot of scar tissue not quite giving under Hajime’s mouth. Tooru’s fingers dug deep in the flesh of his ass, wedged tight between the stretch of old cotton and Hajime’s hips – his twitches on a beat. Daichi couldn’t keep his eyes open, ears full of Hajime’s breathing and Tooru’s satisfied little chirps as they all fell into that rhythm, Daichi pulled along for the dance.

Hajime pulled a hand away from double-fisting his dick to tug at his own pants, throwing a pause in the melody. Daichi blinked, still rucking up into the one hand and the hard line beneath it, and looked down at Tooru, smiling up at him, with a fog in his eyes. Daichi grinned, and bent down to kiss it, hands burying into his hair. Tooru opened to his tongue, wheezing against him in an aborted whimper, hands roaming over Daichi’s bare back. Daichi only noticed Hajime moving out of the way when he was able to adjust his straddle to a proper lay, twisting his feet around Tooru’s ankles as Tooru tugged at their remaining clothes, trying to free important bits to act unimpeded. Daichi could have helped, but he finally had his hands wrist-deep in Tooru’s hair and he never wanted to take them out. He couldn’t settle, shifting over Tooru like a lazy otter-snake in the sun, blistering his front. Tooru didn’t say that he minded, keeping Daichi close by his teeth as he yanked at clothing with no real regard for how, almost lifting off the bed when Daichi’s shifting made space between them for a moment. Daichi could spend hours kissing him with no other objective, he already could tell, but that wasn’t the point of tonight.

“It’s like sleeping with kids who just learned sex is a thing,” Hajime grumbled beside them. Daichi tried to pull away to say something back, but he couldn’t even draw a breath before Tooru grabbed his face in both hands and yanked him back down, nibbling his lip in punishment for leaving him. Hajime huffed and hooked fingers in Daichi’s loosened pants, tugging them down with Daichi’s exaggerated body roll until he only had to fight with their tangled feet to chuck them off the bed.

It didn’t take much prodding to get them to roll over, Tooru pressing Daichi into the feather mattress as rough hands worked on his lower half. Daichi accepted the assault, groaning as newly bared skin met for the first time. Tooru eased off – just enough to whisper against Daichi’s gasping mouth, “I’ve wanted to hear you make that sound for months.” Daichi’s breath hitched, Hajime’s fingers brushed over his thighs as he pulled off Tooru’s pants.

“Months? Really?” Hajime chuckled, a sharp _slap_ making Tooru gasp into Daichi’s open mouth. “I thought you didn’t figure out Daichi was a catch until the island.”

He grunted and pulled away to glare over his shoulder at a smiling Hajime. “Excuse _you_ , I’ve known he was a catch since we crossed the _wall-_ ” He moaned as Daichi latched onto the neck just _begging_ him to taste it, Daichi holding him still by the hair as he traced around the brown spots there with his tongue – too faint to be moles, but too dark to be freckles. Hajime chuckled, falling down on the bed beside them, propping up on one elbow to run his other hand up and down Tooru’s back. Tooru pushed back into it, giving Daichi’s lungs a little more room to expand but pulling those three freckle-moles almost out of reach. Daichi growled and yanked him back down, Tooru yelping just a bit as he collapsed over Daichi. Hajime chuckled some more, leaning in for Tooru’s free mouth. Tooru shivered against Daichi even as Hajime edged closer to lay more than a hand over him, body warmth almost oppressively thick in the air. Daichi turned Tooru’s head more towards Hajime, outside hand falling to his shoulder to give Hajime more room to pick him apart, the muscles under Daichi’s mouth bunching with every whimper and moan.

Hajime’s wandering hand slid down to Tooru’s back and pushed down _hard_ , making Tooru gasp and Daichi groan, bucking up into the hot wet line in the dip of his hip. “Didn’t you want to show Daichi want we wanted to do to him?” Hajime muttered, lips on Tooru’s ear but eyes on Daichi’s. He grinned, an earlobe in his teeth. Tooru’s eyes, barely slits, cut over to join in the staring-at-Daichi contest. He swallowed on a dry mouth.

Tooru shifted over him, moving sideways enough so he was only over one of Daichi’s legs and he could reach down and feel out Daichi’s dick with sword-calloused fingers. Daichi hissed through clenched teeth, throwing his head back on the mattress (they had given up the pretense that there was a ‘right’ way to lie on a bed, the pillows shoved in the seam where mattress met wall). Tooru sighed, the height of aristocratic boredom. “We did have conflicting views, of course,” he drawled, feeling out Daichi like it was a blind-box guessing game, using his weight to restrain Daichi’s squirming. “See, I wanted to suck you off until Iwa-chan here would have to gag you to keep us from getting kicked out of our room.” He laid over Daichi, tucking his chin on his shoulder to whisper in Daichi’s ear, “Of course, Iwa-chan won’t admit it, but I can just _taste_ how much he wants you to fuck him to the next full moon.”

“What nonsense are you feeding him _now?_ ” Hajime asked from the opposite side than where he had been before. Daichi blinked over as Tooru kept mouthing at his ear – he had gotten off the bed at some point in Tooru’s speech, frowning down at them as he spun a clay tub between his palms. He was naked – Daichi had probably, definitely, seen it all before, but it was different now, all of them flushed and sweaty, Hajime’s dick hard and red. Daichi flopped out a hand for him as Tooru smiled at him, the curve pressed to Daichi’s jaw.

“No nonsense,” he crooned as Hajime took Daichi’s hand and let himself get dragged to the bed once more, “just a little truth.” Daichi hauled him in for a hard kiss, still holding Tooru by the hair with the other. Hajime grunted against his mouth, folded in to make it work but Daichi didn’t care. He just wanted him – both of them – in whatever ways he could, as many as they could fit. Hajime gave up trying to find a more comfortable position and just melted over Daichi, still sitting on the edge of the bed, twisted to make it work. Tooru licked up some salt trickling down Daichi’s temple. “So, my dear? How would you like this to play out? His way or mine?”

Daichi grinned, drawing Hajime’s tongue through his teeth as he pulled back. “I was thinking mine.” Before Tooru could assemble a retort, he let Hajime go to turn on him, keeping him front-down as he swung a leg over his back, reaching forward to pin Tooru’s wrists to the bed by his ears. Tooru let out a breathless little _oh!_ as Daichi leant forward, eyes scanning the bed and their surroundings. “You tell me if I’m going too far,” he mumbled to the back of Tooru’s neck, nosing aside the hair there to kiss up and down the bumps of his spine. Tooru nodded, head turned to the side so one blown-out eye could watch. Daichi’s laces were buried in the rumpled sheets somewhere, but this bed had no headboard to tie them to. Like most of the inns they had stayed in this side of the Green River, this one was made of wood, but it had lines of brick along the outside and a clay-based plaster along the inside wall. He could work with that.

He caught Hajime’s curious eye and nodded at the discarded laces. Hajime raised an eyebrow, but fished them both out, handing them over. Daichi took a chance and let one of Tooru’s wrists go to take them, rutting up along the dip of Tooru’s back to distract him. It worked for a few startled breaths, long enough to get one knotted around each wrist, the ends trailing. He winked at a still-perplexed Hajime and stretched forward, hands laced with Tooru’s from behind until his palms pressed against cool plaster. Tooru smirked back at him, trying not to pant. “Is this some kind of mental thing? Just pretend like I’m tied up? I’m not very good at that, dear heart.”

Daichi pecked his cheek, fingers trailing down Tooru’s wrists to the dangling laces. “I never for a moment pretended that you were.” He pressed the laces ends to the plaster and shoved them in, burying the old leather until barely a thumb’s length was loose before the knots on Tooru’s wrists. “You need something more solid, right?”

Tooru tanked at his ties, breath quick. “You little _fox-dog!_ ” Daichi chuckled and kissed his cheek again as Tooru struggled to look at Hajime. “Iwa-chan! Help me!”

Hajime hummed, reclining next to them to admire Daichi’s handiwork. “Not bad, farmhand.” Tooru gasped, and Hajime laughed, burying it in Tooru’s upper arm. Tooru puffed up as he flopped back on the bed with a _puff_ , Hajime smiling up at him with that soft sunset edge to it, trailing fingers down Tooru’s cheek. Daichi had to look away.

Daichi’s hands ran down Tooru’s arms, cupping his elbows as Hajime slipped one of the discarded pillows under them. “It’s not too high is it? Too tight?” Tooru pouted, but tested his bonds, pulling at them and letting his arms sag. He shook his head, and Hajime rewarded him with a kiss, sliding under Tooru a little to lie on his arm-support pillow, a lazy hand coming up to brush Tooru’s cheek. Daichi went back to kissing Tooru’s neck, following his spine down, along the arc of his back, to where he was still a little red from Hajime’s earlier spank. Daichi massaged the handprint, looking up to see how they were lost in each other, one of Hajime’s legs bent up as his arms wrapped around Tooru’s head and shoulders, Tooru doing his best with his hands pinned to the wall. Daichi watched them for just a moment, how Tooru’s hair waved between Hajime’s fingers, before moving from straddling the backs of Tooru’s upper thighs to kneeling between them, pushing his knees out on the bed for space. Tooru groaned as Daichi pressed his hands up his legs to his ass – why did he keep sleeping with all these assless boys? He shook his head and slapped a matching red spot opposite Hajime’s fading pink one to hear Tooru squeal. He rolled his palms into both of them, Tooru’s hips squirming under him.

Tooru broke away from Hajime’s mouth to tell him just loud enough for Daichi to hear, “Y’know, I think he’s got a bit of an attention deficit.”

“What the hell is a deficit?” Daichi asked at the same time Hajime growled, “Fuck’s a deficit?” Tooru sighed and kissed Hajime’s nose, bending his right leg to run his foot over Daichi’s calf.

“A lack of. He’s _needy,_ ” he crooned, rubbing cheeks with Hajime. Daichi huffed. Hajime wriggled out from under Tooru to sit up, smirking at Daichi as he laid a lazy warm hand against his neck. Daichi pressed into it, fingers digging into Tooru’s thighs.

Hajime chuckled, sidling closer. “Okay, then. What’s your plan, Mr. Deficit?”

Daichi turned his head to kiss Hajime’s hand, mouthing over his thumb. “I was _hoping_ I could fuck Tooru into the mattress until he shut up,” he said, Tooru letting out a long whine. Hajime just watched him, eyes dark. “But I’m open to fresh ideas.”

“No, I would really love to see that.” He grinned, tugging on Daichi’s ear. “I was always worried Kuroo let that captain thing get to his head, but he didn’t waste you at all, did he?”

Daichi hummed, closing his eyes as Hajime pet him. “Depends on what you call ‘wasting’. He wore me out, that’s for sure.” Hajime smiled, that soft sunset thing, and Daichi had to take a hand off Tooru to drag him in for a kiss. Tooru kicked him.

“Stop _ignoring_ me,” he whined, wriggling around Daichi. “You _said_ you were gonna fuck me.”

Hajime and Daichi pulled away, Hajime with a chuckle. “It’s never worked to shut him up before,” he said, “but there’s a first time for everything.” He dug for the tub he had brought over earlier, spinning the top off and resting it in the arch of Tooru’s back. Tooru gasped, a little affronted sound, but didn’t try to buck it off, stilling instead. “Let’s see what you got, _captain_.”

Daichi laughed, dipping his fingers into the greenish lotion. “Y’all do know that that’s still too new to be a thing, right?” He sniffed it – smelled like a kitchen in an olive orchard, but thicker and less transparent than oil. “Where do y’all _find_ this stuff?”

“Honestly, it usually finds us.” Hajime leant in close, grin wicked as he whispered, “ _Captain_.”

Daichi shivered – from the breath puffing over his face. “Knock it off.” Hajime’s eyes crinkled, and Daichi knocked their inch-apart foreheads together, closing his own. “It still doesn’t feel real,” he mumbled, lotioned hand curling in his lap. Hajime hummed, tilting forward to drag a kiss over his mouth, slack and wet.

“Any _day_ now!” Daichi blinked as Hajime growled and sat back, glaring at Tooru, who pouted at them, wiggling as much as he could in his position. His kicking foot landed a blow on Daichi’s thigh. Daichi and Hajime exchanged one two-second look. “Stop eyefucking each other and fuck _me_!”

Daichi grabbed Tooru by the ass, slapping and digging in. “You keep acting like this and I’ll give you something to whine about.” He used his grip to spread Tooru enough for his wet fingers to slide down. “Behave, dear.”

Tooru started to argue, but Hajime pulled him into a kiss just as Daichi slipped his middle finger in, any retort lost in Hajime’s mouth. Hajime wriggled so his upper body was beneath Tooru, holding him still as Daichi worked him open, free hand rubbing up and down Tooru’s leg. Tooru’s hands struggled without purpose, just itching to touch. Daichi leant over him as he worked a second finger in, bracing on his free hand as he lipped at Tooru’s turned ear. He whispered into it, “Do you want me to let you go, Tooru? I can untie your hands if you don’t like it.”

Hajime flopped on the bed beneath him, gasps separate once more. “Man asked you a question.”

Tooru whined, a high-pitched thing, squirming between them as he tried to kiss Hajime again while also spreading his knees for Daichi to nudge in deeper. Hajime held him back by the hair, fingers catching on Daichi’s hair as well as his mouth moved back from Tooru’s ear to the nape of his neck. “Use your words, love.”

Tooru turned his head enough to catch Daichi’s eye with one of his lidded ones. Daichi scooted forward so his hand was wedged tight between their hips and he could almost sit, enough to lift his bracing hand up, along Tooru’s arm, to where the ties around his wrists dangled from the plaster (covered in hairline cracks already). He made some noise Daichi _never_ thought he would hear a grown man make, something between a bleat and a wail.

“Don’t…” He arched up, back almost aligning with Daichi’s bare chest. “Don’t let me go,” he whispered, hair in his face. Daichi smiled and dropped his arm to wind around Tooru’s waist, kissing his shoulder.

“Of course not,” he pressed there, over to Tooru’s neck. “This isn’t a temporary thing, after all.” He squeezed Tooru – probably a little too tight – then dropped his limp form back on Hajime. They wrapped back up in each other as he finished the task at hand, eyes catching on all the sweaty flashes of Tooru’s movement, the muscles shifting under skin, the contrast of the dusk of Hajime’s hands against Tooru’s bronze against Daichi’s dirt-streaked suntan. He felt rough, unshodden, _young_ , but they trusted him. Tooru trusted him. He took his fingers out and wiped them on the sheets.

“Haj, move, please,” he said, grabbing Tooru by the hips. Hajime slide aside as Daichi flipped Tooru over, wrists crossing as the laces twisted. Daichi ducked under his flying leg as Tooru watched his manhandling, eyes big in his flushed face. He smiled and hooked Tooru’s legs around his waist. Hajime (who had saved the oil from completely seeping through the sheets in its slippery adventures) slicked up Daichi, who bit his lip and tried not to push into it too much. Tooru just watched them, chest heaving, hair halo-spread and damp, fingers curling and uncurling over his head. He had those same not-freckles not-moles all over his torso, dotted like shells in the sand. Daichi traced his fingers over them, breath loud in his own head.

“You talked about how you wanted people to be jealous of you because of me.” Tooru blinked a few times, eyelashes catching. Daichi circled a slightly raised spot on his side with his thumb. “But can you even dream about what they’re going to feel about me having _you_ on _my_ arm?” He bent Tooru’s left leg up (leaving the right one splayed out straighter behind him), hooking it over his shoulder so he could kiss the inside of his knee. “It’s a good thing green is the color in Ba Sing Se.”

Hajime slapped his ass forward, lining him up with Tooru’s raised hips. “Stop talking.”

Tooru’s head knocked back as Daichi pushed in, half of his own volition and half by Hajime’s direction. Daichi wrapped his arm around Tooru’s leg for something to ground him as he bottomed out, kept moving forward to press his open mouth to Tooru’s bared throat. “I love you,” he left there, tucked between Tooru’s wheezy little gasps. Tooru keened, pried-open legs struggling to hold him the way his arms couldn’t. Daichi could go on, list all the little elements that came together to make his heart overheat in his chest – not the wildfire of his red silk nights with Kuroo, but a festival bonfire, large, centering, controlled. A celebration.

Daichi nosed Tooru’s head around until they could kiss right, trying to combine his gunpowder and Tooru’s colors with their sparks. Tooru kissed back, hungry, hips shifting with his inching body until he started to have a rhythm to it. Daichi pulled back enough to ask, “Ready, dear?”

Tooru panted, swallowed. “Yeah. C’mon.” Daichi wriggled a hand under Tooru’s lower back to lift his hips, fingers spread. The first thrust together with the new angle made Tooru choke, biting down on Daichi’s lip. They weren’t really kissing anymore, just pressing open mouths together as they uncovered what had always been there, that simple understanding of the other and all their complexities. They didn’t stumble, even when they fell off rhythm, because they _knew_ each other. Red and blue and copper exploded, and Daichi couldn’t keep in another ‘ _I love you_ ,’ barely even words.

Tooru’s sweat-slick chest slipped around against him, all words he tried for dying in their first syllable. Daichi sat back, unbreaking and bumped into something solid. Thick callouses trailed over his spine.

“How much do you think you can handle, love?” Hajime asked, throwing off Daichi’s groove for a beat. Daichi turned to blink at him, knelt behind him and eyes focused _low_. His hands trailed over Tooru’s uneven legs to below, grabbing a handful of Daichi’s ass, Tooru wailing on the hard thrust after. “Damn, it’s nice to have something to hold onto,” Hajime breathed.

“ _Hey!_ ” Tooru tried to protest, undercut by the wheezing crack in his voice. Hajime chuckled, looking up at Daichi’s eyes as his fingers found the path of least resistance.

It took a few blinks, a few mindless thrusts, for Daichi to cotton on. His breath sucked in through his teeth. “Oh. _Yes_.” Hajime smiled, eyes narrowed, and reached to the side for the slick. Daichi spread Tooru’s legs more so he could follow suit, leaning back over him and bracing on his elbows, hair drifting over Tooru’s face. He blew it away, spit dusting Daichi’s cheek. He laughed and rubbed the wet spot over Tooru’s own, making him giggle and squirm. The cheek rub slid right into a kiss, Tooru still giggling, Daichi still laughing, copper lightshow still going on in his veins. Sex was great and all, but it really wasn’t complete without laughter.

Hajime’s touch should have surprised him, but it didn’t. Daichi and Tooru picked up a new pace, easy and slow, mouths moving against each other in time with their hips and Hajime’s fingers. It was a _lot_ , and Daichi kept waiting for the moment when it would tip over and someone would call it off (or he would wake up). But it never came, not even when Hajime’s hand pulled out and something warmer took its place.

It was Daichi’s turn to collapse with a whine as Hajime pressed in, Tooru’s legs getting arranged out of the way. It had been a while since Daichi had taken anything (Kuroo knew what he liked, after all), and while Daichi had no problems giving, he had forgotten just how nice it felt to receive.

Tooru chuckled in his ear, breathless, but they all were. “So you like that too, huh, my dear?” He lipped over what parts of Daichi’s face he could reach as Hajime gasped behind them, everything pausing for them to catch their breaths. “Can’t blame you, really. Can you believe Iwa-chan has no idea how big he is? Thinks I just don’t have enough ‘exposure’.” His lifted arms bumped into Daichi’s head ( _he should untie those soon_ , some distant voice in Daichi’s head said, _they might be losing blood flow_ ). “I’ve had plenty of ‘exposure’,” he purred, running his nose over the give under Daichi’s cheekbone. “He’s much better with a lot more than any fancy socialite could _dream_ of.”

“Shut it,” Hajime growled, punching forward with a vicious first thrust. “Don’t know what you’re – saying,” he grunted, starting slow and hard, “but it’s probably – wrong as hell.”

Tooru’s mouth curled up even as Daichi was rocked into him. “Sure it is,” he mumbled, just for Daichi.

That was Hajime’s last attempt at speaking, ramping up his tempo as Tooru found leverage to push into it and Daichi just tried not to die. Hajime’s hands roamed over his back, fingers digging in or spreading out to press him down harder, arching him up for it. It was harder to fuck Tooru like this, never quite able to get all the way in, but Tooru didn’t seem to mind, mouthing over his entire face until it probably shone in the lamplight. Daichi couldn’t do much in response, do much at all, pushed and pulled between them until all he could think about was sandalwood and sweat and _I love you_. It didn’t matter who.

Hajime finished first, pulling out just as wet splattered on Daichi’s back. Daichi came as soon as he could bury deep in Tooru again, hips flush and groan bleeding out. Tooru gasped under him, holding him in with his heels hard enough that neither Hajime not Daichi could fit a hand in, rutting against Daichi’s stomach instead. Hajime crawled up to grab his hair and kiss him, more teeth than anything, Tooru’s mouth open in a quiet cry as he followed them, legs falling from around Daichi to the bed. Daichi buried his face in Tooru’s neck, gasping, listening to his own heart in his ears and the wet sounds of Hajime’s attack easing off to a gentler but longer kiss.

Daichi wasn’t quite sure how long they laid there, just breathing with each other in the humidity. He did know that Hajime was the first to recover, rolling away to poke around the room – Daichi couldn’t focus enough to know what he was doing. He barely had the energy to pull out, Tooru making a winded punched-out noise at it. Daichi listened to the little distant voice and slapped his hand at the wall between Tooru’s wrists, pulling the ties out of the plaster with more than his usual amount of cracks left behind. They could fix the wall later; right now, he just needed to feel Tooru wrap his arms around his shoulders and hold him, almost too tight but not quite. He sighed, holding him back as much as his noodled arms would allow. “I love you,” he said to Tooru’s temple. Tooru leant into it.

“I know,” he said, voice rumbly and warm. “You told me.”

“Okay, we’ve got the whole night for cuddling,” Hajime growled, the bed sinking as he sat on the edge. Daichi cracked an eye as a partly clothed Hajime wiped a damp rag down Daichi’s back, cleaning the drying come with red ears. “Let’s clean up first.”

“Oh, I forgot to warn you,” Tooru stage-whispered as Hajime poked and propped at them to separate. “Our little prickly pear gets pricklier after sex, as compensation.” Daichi grinned as Hajime’s cheeks puffed up.

“I do _not_ ,” he huffed, scrubbing down Tooru’s chest with more force than necessary. Daichi and Tooru exchanged a look that made him slap Tooru’s chest with the cloth and shove at Daichi’s shoulder, smile winning the fight for his face. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” Tooru teased, tongue out. Daichi crawled around the predictable makeout to get his own rag from the waiting towels hanging on the rod of the washstand in the opposite corner of the room. He dunked one in the tepid water of the shallow basin carved into the aged wood top, taking a few deep breaths as the world reminded him it existed. The inn creaked around them, settling for the night between the hum of the hayfields it was nestled in, the ruffle of stable feathers through the cracked shutters, the pop of a log in the fire in the sitting room of the suite. They should probably go check on that before they got too comfortable.

There was a strip of silver at eye level above the washstand, polished to a mirror. Daichi glanced at his face in the slight warp – red, glistening, a bruise from Tooru’s teeth, maybe, starting to spot along his chin. His hair was a mess, and he didn’t have any of Kuroo’s assorted collection of little-used products to pilfer to get it in order tomorrow. If this was going to be a regular thing, he might have to collect his own. He washed the sweat off his face, rubbing at where Tooru’s spit had mixed to make everything tacky and sticky.

“Dear heart?” He looked over his shoulder at the bed, Tooru laid out on it in the linen shorts that Daichi apparently was too much of a ‘ruffian’ to know existed as Hajime straightened the pillows, yanking them out from the (widened) crevice between mattress and wall. “What are you doing over there?”

“Just cleaning up.” He gave one last distracted wipe at his chest before leaving the rag hanging from the edge of the basin. “Shouldn’t we bank the fire?” he asked even as he walked back to bed, turning off the oil for the lamp set in the wall. Tooru flapped a hand.

“The staff’ll do it. That’s their job.” Hajime rolled his eyes but didn’t comment, instead yanking the blankets out from under Tooru. Tooru almost fell off the bed with a little yelp, but Daichi caught him, hand bracing his chest. Tooru smiled up at him, eyes only just snagging on Daichi’s bare crotch. “Thank you, dear. How _polite_.”

“Suck a rock.” Hajime, now under the covers, shoved back to where mattress met wall. Tooru sat up and patted the middle of the bed, still smiling at Daichi. Daichi only hesitated a breath before crawling over his legs to the offered space, Hajime throwing the blankets and himself over him when he laid down. Tooru molded to Daichi’s other side, fingers tangling with Hajime’s over his stomach. It took some wriggling and a few elbows to get comfortable – this bed wasn’t really _meant_ for three active men to share – but they didn’t care. Daichi stretched out like a fat lizard-cat on a hearth, the bonfire of Tooru blending with the campfire of Hajime. There was a lot of bare sweaty skin pressed to his, which should be awful – and might be in the future – and his arms, one under each of them, were going to be sore and tingly in the morning, but for now, he could be content. Tooru hummed into his neck, smile tangible.

“Oh,” Tooru said through a yawn, “before I forget.” He pressed a kiss to Daichi’s jaw, barely a purse of his lips. “I love you, too.” Daichi grinned, turning to kiss him right, snarling his hand in Tooru’s hair to hold him there. Tooru smiled into it, pushing closer.

Hajime reached up a blind hand to push them apart, fingers catching in odd spots on their faces. “Shu’it so I can sleep,” he grumbled, words rolling through Daichi’s chest. Daichi chuckled while Tooru snickered, which Hajime responded to by turning to face the wall, pulling Daichi’s arm around like a favorite stuffed animal.

Daichi smiled and kissed the exposed back of his neck. “Sure,” he whispered. “Good night.”

“’Ove you too,” Hajime replied, too quiet for Tooru to hear under his humming lullaby. Daichi closed his eyes, smile on until he fell asleep.


End file.
